


Erebus College and the Search for Sasquatch

by katherine1753



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, First Kiss, M/M, Married Couple, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Sasquatch, Slow Burn, terrortober2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:22:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26764996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katherine1753/pseuds/katherine1753
Summary: Erebus College, a small but prestigious school, has many typical college things: grad students and faculty, a sports team or two, dorm life, stress, new relationships, that one professor no one likes...but it is also home to a myth: Sasquatch sightings in the forested mountains outside of town. Most people believe it is a story to keep children from playing in the woods, but there are believers throughout town. Every few years, a group of students get brave enough (or stupid enough) to venture up into the mountains to camp for a long weekend, hoping for a sighting. This year is that year.New students, new loves, stressful midterms, a football team with the worst record, and, if they're lucky, a Sasquatch sighting.Follows the POVs of Henry Peglar, John Bridgens, Thomas Jopson, Edward Little, Francis Crozier, and James Fitzjames.For the TerrorTober2020 prompts.
Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier/Commander James Fitzjames, John Bridgens/Harry Peglar, Thomas Jopson/Lt Edward Little
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	1. Daguerreotype

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is inspired by @downeymore’s (on twitter) #terrortober2020 prompt list! I’ve decided to mush all of the prompts into one big Modern AU Story. Each chapter will feature the prompt word (either just a passing mention or as a main feature) and I will update this as frequently as I can, but I may not have one chapter per day. However, there will be one chapter per prompt! I am taking some liberties with the way schools work and things like that, but, again, this is a Modern AU with a fantasy twist, and I do what I want. I hope you all enjoy!

HENRY 

Henry Peglar arrived at Erebus College with nothing but his satchel and suitcase, a badly printed map of the campus, and an email saying there was an issue with his schedule and to please report immediately to the Academic Advisory Office. Being a transfer student, he was given access to the campus a day before the returning students. The grounds were mostly empty and it gave him the chance to wander and potentially get lost without the need for embarrassment. He only got turned around once or twice, which he found a bit surprising since Erebus College was much smaller than his previous university, but he made it to the Advisor’s office with ten minutes to spare. The three chairs in the front office were mismatched but all considerably comfier looking than anything that could be found at his old school. The office was empty, but he could hear typing and muffled phone conversations from behind the cluster of closed doors surrounding the room. He followed the instructions on the sign on the desk, typing his name into the computer to check in, and sat in the chair nearest to the door he came in. 

Ten minutes later, on the dot, a woman looking equal parts friendly and fierce poked her head out of one of the office doors. “Mr. Peglar?”

Henry nodded, standing with his jumble of things, and followed her inside the comfortable looking office. 

“I’m Jane Franklin, I’ll be your advisor this semester,” she greeted him with a firm handshake. “Welcome to Erebus College! Do you know why your class schedule was flagged?” Ms. Franklin talked quickly, and her fingers flew across her keyboard even more quickly.

“No, ma’am, I wasn’t sure if maybe my transcripts didn’t come across? I have a copy of them here with me if you need them,” Henry opened his shoulder bag, rummaging through the papers he’d hoped not to have to use. 

Ms. Franklin sighed sympathetically. “Not exactly. Unfortunately, we don’t accept literature credits from Darwin U. And since that was your undergrad, as well as your first year of grad school, you’re quite a bit behind on credits and so your class schedule has a hold on it until we can get this sorted out. Surely they told you that at Darwin when you put in your transfer papers?”

Henry felt his heart sink. No one had told him anything, and he said as much. His literature credits were the hardest ones he had, every day was a struggle for him in those classes. And now to be a year behind-  _ five  _ years behind if none of his undergrad lit classes counted...Henry felt tears prick at his eyes and he blinked them away furiously. It was barely his first day here and things were already too hard. He knew he should have stayed at Darwin University like everyone told him to, but Erebus College was so prestigious and had much better research opportunities. He thought,  _ hoped, _ he could scrape by just enough to snag one of the internships offered at the end of the year. 

“I figured as much,” Ms. Franklin sighed again. “Alright, well, since you’re on your second year of grad school, we can’t put the undergrad classes on your schedule, the system freaks out when we try,” she hit the space bar with enough force to make Henry jump slightly. “But what I can do, is put you down for an independent study program with the head of our Literature Department. It’ll show up on your schedule as one extra class, and you’ll have to work out with Mr. Bridgens what exactly you need to do to catch up, but he’s very fair and will find you a project to work on that best suits your needs. Your transcript should be all good to go by the end of the year, if not this semester,” she smiled at him. 

“Thank you, ma’am,” Henry managed, heart still racing a bit. He was already expecting a heavy workload with the classes he’d already tried to sign up for, so an extra class on top of that would surely be a lot. But if it could fix nearly five years worth of lost credits then he’d find a way to make it work. 

“I’ve told John, Mr. Bridgens that is, about your situation already, so he’s expecting you when we’re done here. I’ll get your new schedule printed and Ann’s getting your ID Card made up right now,” she clicked something on her computer and the printer on her desk whirred to life. As if on cue, a young woman knocked on the partially opened door and stepped in to hand Ms. Franklin a plastic card. 

“Thank you, Ann,” she called after her. “Alright, this is your ID, it’ll get you into your dorm, the dining hall, and the locked parts of the library. And here’s your schedule,” she pulled the sheet from her printer. Henry tucked the card into his pocket, folded the paper carefully into his bag, and circled the Literature Building on his terrible map after getting directions from Ms. Franklin for both the walk there and the internal layout of the building. 

Henry worried his way across the quad, finding his way to the small Literature Building. He was already stressed enough about being new and starting at a more difficult school, and now a new project on top of it all...he just hoped Mr. Bridgens was as nice as Ms. Franklin made him seem. 

He wandered down a little hallway to the only open door at the end. Inside was a cozy little office piled high with interesting trinkets and antiques, and nearly every flat surface in the room was covered in books. Many of the surfaces that were  _ not _ flat were also covered in books. Usually, Henry would have been fascinated by the glass lamps, the ships in bottles lining the windowsill, the ancient paned windows, any number of things that would have drawn the eye of any self-respecting History Major. But the only thing his eyes could see was the man behind the cluttered desk. Sturdy looking, with greying hair blending into his soft-looking beard, a gentle expression on his face, furrowed eyebrows as he flipped through pages of a book...he was the most beautiful man Henry had ever seen. And he felt his heart race for entirely different reasons than it had been beating for the rest of the day. 

Mr. Bridgens looked up at him after a moment (oh, God, Henry had been staring, hadn’t he?) and smiled at him, and Henry, feeling his cheeks darken, hastily raised his hand like he’d been about to knock. “Ah, Henry, I’ve been expecting you,” his tone was so friendly, so warm, and his eyes looked genuinely happy to see him. A whole semester of this? Henry was in deep trouble. He’d never be able to concentrate. “Please, have a seat,” he gestured to the chair in front of his desk, the only thing in the room not covered in books. 

Henry shuffled in awkwardly, willing his cheeks to return to their normal color and the smile on his face to not be as nervous as it felt. 

“I understand you’re in need of some literature credits?” 

“Yes, sir,” Henry replied, and thanked God that his voice didn’t crack or betray his feelings or any number of embarrassing things that could have happened. 

“John, please,” he said softly. “Or just Bridgens. Whatever you’re more comfortable with.” 

Henry nodded, not trusting himself to say this man’s name yet without melting on the spot. This was going to be a very long meeting. A very long semester. 

“I’ve read some of your old papers,” Mr. Bridgens said enthusiastically. “You’re a very good writer.”

Henry flushed at the unexpected praise. “You’ve...you’ve read my papers?”

“Yes, I had them sent over from Darwin, I wanted to get a good idea of your skill level before helping you pick a project. Your research paper on daguerreotypes was fascinating! Very thoroughly researched. One of the best bibliographies I’ve seen in years.” 

And Henry could listen to John’s voice all day. “Oh. Thank you,” he said, sure he was still pink. He had quite enjoyed writing that paper. He’d only gotten a mediocre grade on it, but his professor had been apparently ‘looking for something else’ than what he’d written. It was nice that someone else appreciated the effort and enthusiasm he’d put into it. 

“Your range of topics across your different papers though...it varies quite a bit. And that’s fine,” John rushed to reassure him, “but we like to narrow it down a bit more at Erebus for the grad students.”

Henry nodded. “No, yeah, of course,” he said, making total sense. 

The corner of Bridgens’s mouth twitched up. “So, Henry, what fascinates you the most? What do you like?”

‘ _ You _ ,’ Henry wanted to say, and thankfully his brain had caught up with him enough to stop that from happening. “Boats,” he blurted out, and resisted the urge to smack himself in the forehead. 

“Boats,” John smiled. “We can work with that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm katherine1753 on tumblr and twitter if you want to talk about some cold boys :D


	2. Spyglass

JOHN

“Boats,” John smiled. “We can work with that.” The soft, relieved responding smile on Henry’s face was sweet. John always felt a pang of sympathy for the transfer grads; new schools were always intimidating even as young adults. But Henry’s papers had been wonderful, and John was looking forward to working with a student who seemed to truly care about and understand his essay topics. 

Henry’s face was a little pink and he looked like he wanted to say more, but he fell silent, eyes darting around the room before settling somewhere on Bridgens’s desk. He thought Henry might be looking at his hands, but he couldn’t tell for certain. 

“I was in the Navy myself, for a bit,” John said, fingers absentmindedly fidgeting with a spyglass on one of the rare parts of his desk not covered in books. That was probably what Henry had been looking at. “I preferred the historic side of it though,” he admitted. 

Henry brightened a bit. It was very charming. Working with him for a semester would be a treat. “I’m quite fond of the Discovery Service,” Henry said. “The Royal Navy and the Age of Sail, all of the exploratory expeditions, they’re fascinating.” Watching him light up when he spoke of his interests, John felt his heart give a bit of a flutter. It was quickly becoming more than just the general feeling of happiness when someone got excited to talk about their interests to someone who genuinely cared. “I like researching those best,” Henry finished, voice a little breathless with his enthusiasm. 

“Perfect,” Bridgens smiled back. “For your project, I’d like you to write me a paper relating and comparing something that happens this semester to something historic. Perhaps from one of your Discovery Service expeditions. It can be as simple as a specific event or conversation, or as big as the entire semester itself. I want you to write what inspires you most, not just another research paper.”

Henry nodded. “How many pages? Or words?”

“However many it needs,” John answered. “I’m more interested in the quality. I want you to be able to write what you need to write without constraints like word count. Too long and things get repetitive, too short and things get left out,” he shrugged. “Just write. But don’t start just yet, unless you’re particularly inspired by something. Give yourself some time to think about it. Let it match your interests and don’t force the words. And this paper will count for all of your missing literature credits. I have faith in you to figure out what and when and how long it needs to be,” John said softly. 

Henry frowned for a moment, an adorable furrow of his brows, but then seemed to like the idea. “Yes, sir. John,” he corrected. 

“We can meet every other week to discuss it, if that works for you, or as often as you’d like. I know the project block shows up on your schedule as two hours a week, but I don’t want to take up too much of your time with your other studies. You’ve got Stanley and Lady Silence this semester, and they’re both a bit intense.”

Henry looked a little worried. But thankful for the flexible schedule. 

“Silna is great,” Bridgens reassured him. “Her classes are very unconventional, but you’ll learn a lot.” 

The conversation lulled, and John found himself a bit caught up in Henry’s eyes. If Henry’s expression was anything to judge by, he thought that maybe Henry was feeling the same way. 

“If you’re not too busy with your classes...I also run a book club at that little bookshop downtown, the one with the rainbow flag out front?” John mentioned. And Henry’s pinkness confirmed his suspicions. “It’s been a small turnout, but it could be a good way to meet some new friends. New books, at the very least,” John laughed. 

Henry nodded again. “Yeah, yeah that’d be great!” 

“We meet the second Thursday of the month, so next week is the first meeting of the semester. You haven’t missed anything yet, we’ll just be discussing if anyone read anything over the summer break. I think I have a flier here somewhere…” he rummaged in his desk for a moment, found the flier, and handed it to Henry. 

“Bigfoot Books?” Henry asked with a quirk of a smile.

“Ah. There's a bit of a legend around town. Mostly just to scare kids from going deep into the woods. The typical Sasquatch sightings, you know,” Bridgens said with a wave of his hand. He didn’t mention that it had become a bit more than a thing on campus, or that sometimes the older students went as far as camping as far into the forest as they could go, hoping for a photo or evidence. The younger Ross had almost a believable photograph. Too bad it was so blurry. Those were things Henry would need to hear from his dorm mates. 

Henry smiled at him again, a lovely little thing, and promised to try his best to make it to the book club. He left with a little wave of his hand, and John knew he was already smitten with Henry Peglar.    
  



	3. Ship

EDWARD

Edward admired his newest tattoo in his small dorm mirror. He’d gotten at least one tattoo every summer since he turned eighteen, and he was getting a bit covered, much to his mother’s dismay. They had spent the summer traveling abroad and Edward was glad to be back. He missed the quiet of Erebus, he missed his friends. He especially missed Tom from next door, though he was definitely not brave enough to say that out loud. He’d knocked on Tom’s door earlier, but he either hadn’t arrived yet or he was already here, unpacked, and in Crozier’s office. Probably the latter, knowing Tom. Sol was running late, as usual, and the rest of the hall was milling about. There was a new guy in Cornelius’s old room. Which was good, Edward never really liked him all that much in the first place. 

This new tattoo was a masterpiece, if he could say so himself. A large sailing ship straight out of one of his history textbooks in shades of black and grey crossed his chest over his left pectoral. He’d gotten a bit soft without football practice over the summer, but he thought he still looked ok. The tattoo looked great. 

Maybe Tom would like it, he thought, before blushing furiously and turning away from the mirror. He didn’t think Tom had ever even seen him without his shirt off. And then he was thinking about Tom without a shirt, which he had only seen very briefly once by accident and it haunted his dreams nearly every night. And his thoughts spiraled from there. Good thing Sol wasn’t here yet, he’d be teased mercilessly and Sol would attempt to pry information out of him. Again. Whatever. 

Edward put his shirt back on and tried to motivate himself to finish unpacking his things. Unpacking was the worst. But maybe it would help pass the time until some of his friends got here. He liked the solitude of his dorm room, but he was missing them. 

He had his first football practice of the year tomorrow, and that would help alleviate some of the loneliness and stress. Though football had its own stress; the Terrors hadn’t won a game in...Edward couldn’t remember how long. Ten years? Eleven? Much longer than he’d been there, and he’d gone to undergrad at Erebus and changed majors twice. 

He unpacked his sports things and shoved them into his already messy closet. Tom would throw a fit at the state of it, but he could deal with that later. He lined his new textbooks up on the shelf above his desk, spines gleaming in the light. He pulled out his laptop, set it on his desk, and almost turned it on. He thought better of it and tucked it back into his bag. There were probably already emails and assignments up on the school website and he didn’t feel like dealing with that yet. 

A nap sounded much better than emails. Even though Tom probably had sent him something, the other ones made the whole thing not worth it. Edward knew he needed to send his thesis topic to Crozier by the start of term, but he still had another couple of days.

He fell asleep on top of his newly made bed with his shoes still on his feet, not bothering to crawl under the covers. 

A few hours later, he was startled awake by a knock on his door. He grumbled as he got up, noting that it was already dark outside so it must have been a long nap. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and slouched over to the door, feeling like a bear emerging from hibernation. Edward perked up immediately when he opened it and saw who was knocking. 

“Ned!” Tom’s bright smile greeted him. Oh how he’d missed him. And being called Ned, it was a special nickname just from Tom. His sisters insisted on Teddy, and his teammates all used last names. 

“Hey, Tom,” he managed, feeling his cheeks going pink and hearing the sleep still in his voice. 

“Oh, I woke you up, I’m sorry,” Tom said, looking regretful. “I wasn’t sure if you were getting here today or tomorrow, but your light was on, and Diggle’s opened the dining hall already, and I didn’t want you to miss dinner, and I was hoping to hear about your summer trips? And also, what are you doing for your thesis? We’ve both got Crozier as our mentor, that’ll be great, we can probably work together on stuff. Oh gosh, listen to me ramble on and on, sorry, anyway. Dinner?” 

Edward’s face hurt from smiling. It was a familiar feeling around Tom. He always thought he was being too obvious, but he couldn’t ever keep his emotions in check when Tom was around. “Dinner, yeah, sounds good. I’ve...missed you,” he ended in a mumble, rubbing the back of his neck like he could pull the words back inside. 

Tom smiled at him again. “Aww, Ned, I’ve missed you too!” And for a moment Edward was almost brave enough to speak up, to say something. “I’ve been here all summer by myself, well, with Crozier of course. And a few of the other professors. But it gets lonely being one of the only students on campus. I had plenty to do, of course, and lots of interesting conversations, but no one fun to talk to,” Tom grinned as Edward shut his door behind him and walked alongside him down the hall. He loved listening to Tom talk. He could do it all day. Some days he did. 

“But enough about me,” Tom continued. “Where did you go this summer? Your family always goes on the most interesting vacations!”

Edward shrugged. “France, mostly. Youngest sister’s in a Marie Antoinette phase. Italy. Spain. Just...around.” Edward sighed, trying to pull more words together. Tom had asked, and he looked so interested in what Edward had to say. “You’d have loved one of the museums she found, a whole wing of historic fashion. I took some pictures for you…” 

Tom’s eyes lit up as Edward thumbed through his phone for a moment to find the album he made especially for him before handing it over. “These are  _ amazing _ , Ned, thank you,” Tom gushed. “Oh, look at that embroidery! Wow!” Edward smiled, happy to watch Tom excitedly scroll through the photos and zoom in on his favorite bits. Edward would remember which photos those were, which outfit pieces specifically. 

“What were you doing here all summer? More classes?” Edward asked when Tom was finished and held the door to the dining hall open for him. 

“Well, I am his TA…” Tom trailed off, looking around at the semi-crowded cafeteria. “I’ll tell you later,” he said in a hushed tone. “Too many people here. Crozier is... _ better _ now, if you understand my meaning.” 

Edward nodded. He thought he understood. And he would wait patiently for Tom to tell him the rest. For now, he would mumble his way through dinner, watch Tom eat like a starving man (the way he ate every single meal and snack), and try to keep himself from blushing or saying anything stupid. 


	4. Buttons

TOM

It was only a few days into the semester and Thomas Jopson was already as busy as ever. He always took on extra projects, it was something he had done ever since he could remember, and he had a hard time saying no when anyone asked for his help. Currently, he was dealing with his busy schedule of classes, grading all of Crozier’s work and teaching the breakout sessions for the undergrads, working on his thesis, tutoring, and sewing three different complicated garments (only one of which was for his classes). 

He’d spend the summer helping Fitzjames care for Crozier while the man was going through rehab. Tom had been close with the both of them for years, seeing them as his unofficial uncles, and he knew they felt similarly. He’d stay at their house off-campus for half the day so that Fitzjames could get some rest and attend to duties on campus, cooking and grading papers and organizing lesson plans for Crozier while he napped. It had been a very rough few months, but Crozier was finally doing well enough to be on his own, and was ready to go back to teaching just in time for the semester to begin. Fitzjames was so proud he’d proposed to Crozier on the spot, and Tom, ever prepared, had enough tissues for the lot of them with all the happy crying that followed. 

He’d told Ned bits and pieces, since he was one of Crozier’s other assistants and knew a lot of what had been going on last semester too, but he didn’t mention the proposal. He knew Fitzjames would probably want to make a grand announcement. He swore Edward to secrecy about what he’d divulged, it was up to Crozier if he wanted to share anything. Plus Tom knew Edward would never speak ill of his mentor. 

And while the busyness of the summer and the busyness of school were very different things, Tom was happy to be busy. He was always happy to be doing something, sitting idle or bored was something Tom hated most. He liked to help, he liked to complete things. And having something so very important to do over the summer had been a godsend, with his mother’s recent passing and his brother staying at his own school for summer classes. Tom was glad to not have to be alone over the break or have to worry about finding someplace to stay and things to do. He was glad to be able to help Crozier, he cared deeply for him. 

Tom had a couple hours break between his classes and he was currently spending those few hours sewing some gleaming antique buttons he’d found at a little pawn shop onto a large woolen coat. And thinking about Ned. This coat was the one garment he actually needed to complete for a class, and it was a replica of an 1840’s lieutenant’s winter coat. He wondered if he could get Edward to model it for him for some pictures for his project, he’d cut it just his size and Tom always thought Ned had the perfect build for uniforms. 

He clipped the thread he’d knotted and started on the next button. He was glad that the dorm was full again and bustling with life. It was nice to be around people his own age, the familiarity of friends, the camaraderie of students and shared hallways. Football season was just starting up too, and that always added to the excitement. Though Tom didn’t play, Ned did, and so did a few other boys from the hall. Tom liked to go and support them even though he’d never seen them win. Edward’s happy grin whenever he’d catch sight of Tom in the stands was worth it though. Tom sighed as he continued to stitch; he really should just ask Ned out, this flirting had been going on for so long now and he was sure his feelings had to be reciprocated. Right? Maybe...soon. He’d ask soon. 

He looked down at the perfect row of buttons. Yes, Edward would look great in this. Maybe he’d even wear it as his main coat this winter after Tom was finished showing it in class and got his portfolio settled. Edward would probably do it even if he didn’t ask, he was just so sweet like that. He still had a terrible scarf Tom had made as his first and only foray into knitting. Everyone had said it was fine, but Tom knew it was horrible. Knitwear wasn’t his strong suit, as much as it pained him to admit it. He hated not being perfect at something. But he could sew and crochet and do every kind of embroidery he’d ever encountered, and so he supposed that was enough for now. Until he had time to figure out knitting again. 

Looking up at his little clock above his neat sewing table, he saw he had exactly enough time to get to his next class. He hung the coat carefully in his closet (also neat, also organized), grabbed his bag, and headed out. He noticed the new student from the hall heading the same way, and thought maybe it would be a good idea to talk to him and try to make a new friend. He quickened his steps to catch up. 

“Hi,” he said, approaching him. He was staring at a campus map, looking at the nearby buildings a little confused. Tom could relate, that map was truly horrible. He’d talked to the administration about it numerous times. “Are you lost?”

“Oh,” the boy said. “A bit, yeah, I think? I’m trying to get to Stanley’s class?”

Tom smiled. A new classmate in the one class he knew he might struggle in. A friend to study with would be great. “I’ve got that class too, if you want to come with me? It’s supposed to be brutal this year. Maybe we can be lab partners if you haven’t already got someone?”

He looked relieved. “That would be amazing, yeah. I’ve heard...nothing but terrible things about Dr. Stanley, actually,” he laughed. “I’m Henry, by the way,” he stuck out his hand. 

“Tom,” he replied, shaking his hand. “Alright, Henry. It might be a long semester, but we’ll get through it.” Together they walked to the little science building, and it was a bit like walking to their doom. Everyone hated Stanley’s classes, and no one walked out of them unscathed. But going in not alone would be a blessing. 


	5. Ring

FRANCIS

Waking up nauseous was not new for Francis, but some mornings were worse than others. Today was one of those days. He rolled over with a groan, and opened one eye to blearily peer at his alarm clock, feeling the still-warm empty spot on the bed next to him. James had an early class to teach today so he was already up and out. The glowing numbers on the clock showed that he still had about ten minutes before he had to be up, but those ten minutes felt like mere seconds. Everything hurt, everything felt awful. He’d had a decent day yesterday too. The past few months had been rough, but deep down he knew it was worth it. 

Sitting up in bed proved to be more difficult than he’d thought. It was all he could manage to grab at his phone, thankfully set on the dimmest lighting, and tap out a badly auto-corrected message to James. 

James called him immediately, promising to take his classes for the day but that he owed him one, preferably in the spring. Francis grumbled his assent, glad to have things covered, and flopped back down in the bed. He pulled the blankets over his head and carefully thumbed out a legible email to Jopson, his TA, telling him that James was taking over the day’s classes and that Jopson could get any of the files he needed from Francis’s office. There were some articles he’d been wanting to pass out to the class this week that he’d left on the kitchen table downstairs, and Jopson could handle that too if he had time. He could feel a migraine coming on and just wanted to go back to sleep, but he hastily typed out one more email to his list of students, explaining that he was unwell and that his fiance would be taking his classes for the day. 

He fell back into an uneasy sleep for about half an hour before he heard Jopson’s key in the lock and figured he’d better prove that he was still alive and probably get some water while he was up. He shuffled downstairs, gave Jopson a careful nod, and gratefully received the bottle of water and couple of painkillers the boy already had waiting for him. 

Francis gathered the articles for Jopson and handed them over. “Thanks, Jopson.”

“Of course, sir,” Jopson smiled at him. “Get some rest. And thank you for the email,” he said, a curious look on his face that Francis was much too tired to figure out. He waved his goodbye and trudged back upstairs to the safety and warmth and quiet of his room. 

Francis wasn’t able to fall back asleep, but between Jopson’s painkillers and the darkness of the room, he was beginning to feel a little better. He absentmindedly fiddled with the ring on his finger, still unused to the silver band. James had insisted that he have a ring, even though Francis was more than happy to wait until they were actually married. He still couldn’t believe his luck, that James had fallen for him, had stayed with him through this madness, and had even proposed. Francis had had so many failed relationships in his past, he was just happy when James had even agreed to go on a date with him. But James, ever surprising, had asked him for a second date and a third, and years later here they were: engaged. 

A corner of his mouth twitched up as he looked at the ring. A constant, visual reminder of James’s love. He understood the appeal now. He’d gotten James a ring too, of course, because if he had one then of course James needed one as well. James’s was a more complicated design, but it suited him well, just as the simple silver band suited Francis. 

James came home for lunch as he usually did, beaming at him as he came through the door and clasping his face in both hands to press a happy kiss to his lips. Francis frowned, surely his class hadn’t gone  _ that  _ well. 

“You told them!” James pulled back, still smiling. 

“I told who what?” Francis asked, even more confused.

James pulled out his phone. “ _ Dear class _ ,” he began, reading Francis’s email. “ _ I am unwell today and will not be able to teach, however, my  _ fiance,” James continued dramatically, “ _ will cover this lesson for me. Please also see Mr. Jopson for some articles I want you to read before next class. Thank you. _ ” 

“Ah,” Francis replied, at a loss for words. He hadn’t even realized. That explained Jopson's look earlier. James had probably wanted to make a big to-do out of their announcement and he’d just...wrote it in an email… 

“I’m glad you told them,” James interrupted his thoughts with another kiss. “They’re all very happy for us, you know. The students. Though you’ll probably want to tell Blanky before one of the boys does, otherwise you’ll never hear the end of it.” 

“Oh Christ,” Francis said, scrambling for his phone. Sure enough, nearly every student in the class had replied with congratulatory emails. 

“We’ll have to celebrate, when you’re feeling better,” James continued, a hint of something in his voice, a lingering touch on his shoulder. “Just the two of us.”

“I’m...starting to feel much better,” Francis looked up at him hopefully. He was rewarded with another kiss and a promise for the weekend. 


End file.
